


Some Allies Are More Dangerous Than Enemies

by MissKitsune08



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Ezra drives Imperials nuts, Frenemies, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 06:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10182317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKitsune08/pseuds/MissKitsune08
Summary: Ezra Bridger decides to sneak into Thrawn's office one more time to retrieve Hera's kalikori and gets far more than he bargained for.





	1. We Are Not Here To Steal Art!

Ezra punched in the stolen command sequence to the side panel in front of Grand Admiral Thrawn's office and the door opened with a tell-tale hissing sound. Yet he couldn't shrug off a feeling that it had been all too easy.

There were no stormtroopers guarding the door to the Grand Admiral's office. No assassin droids waiting in the antechamber. The lights were turned off and the corridor was empty. _It smells like a trap._

Ezra tip toed inside and turned on the light, his other hand reaching to the lightsaber attached to his utility belt. Nothing. He blinked at the small museum that dimly lit up all around him. The last time he had sneaked into Thrawn's office he hardly had the time to take a good look at various pieces of art displayed at the sides of the room. He walked around, taking his time to appreciate some of the objects that caught his attention while seeking the one he came for in the first place.

A lightsaber? What was a lightsaber doing in the Grand Admiral's office? To whom it could have possibly belonged? Did Thrawn consider a lightsaber to be a work of art? 

Ah, there it was! Hera's kalikori. The Grand Admiral had moved it to the very center of the room, making it look like the masterpiece of his collection. Ezra's lips curled in a victorious smile and he was about to grab it and leave when the doors to an adjoining room opened and none other than the Grand Admiral himself entered the command suite.

“Welcome to my office, Padawan Bridger,” Thrawn said in his smooth, cultured voice, “Forgive me for being such a poor host the last time. Perhaps you would care for a cup of a tea?” The Imp raised an eyebrow at seeing Ezra's bewildered expression. “A loose leaf brewed tea, of course. Not the instant muddy-colored water that passes for tea in this part of the galaxy.”

Ezra finally recovered from his shock and used the Force to quickly leap across the room at the Grand Admiral, igniting his lightsaber and swinging it right at the blue throat. His hand froze in mid air, though, when the Imp raised his arms in an universal sign of surrender.

“Bridger, please, there is no need for violence. I was alerted to your presence the very moment you landed on the hangar platform. It may not be a regulation yet but all vessels under my command are under strict orders to run through voice and facial recognition scan as a security precaution. It would serve you right to remember it the next time you decide to infiltrate a ship of the Seventh Fleet.”

Kallus was certainly not kidding when he had said that Thrawn was known for being thorough. It left Ezra speechless for a moment. If Thrawn knew about him then how come he was not arrested on the spot? How come he was allowed to run free through his flagship, let alone enter Thrawn's private sanctuary? And most importantly, how come Ezra was not able to sense the Grand Admiral's presence in his adjoining private quarters?

Ezra took a deep breath and tried to use the Force to make sense of the Imp's intentions. There was no gloating, no hostility, only a sense of calm self-confidence and unfamiliar alien thought patterns that Ezra could not decipher. His unnerving red eyes were watching Ezra with open curiosity, his blue, angled features unnaturally shaded by the green glow from the lightsaber at his throat. Except for breathing the Imp was standing completely still, his arms still raised in a gesture of surrender. Only now Ezra noticed that the side-arm holster appeared to be empty. Did the Grand Admiral have a death wish?

“Give me a good reason why I simply shouldn't cut off your head and save us all the trouble?” Ezra growled out, pressing the lightsaber closer to the unguarded throat.

The Grand Admiral let out an amused chuckle. “I can give you several reasons, in fact. Revenge is not the Jedi way. Nor a murder in a cold blood. But more importantly,” there was a sudden spark in the red eyes, “I am a Fulcrum.”

Ezra almost jumped out of his skin, his jaw lowering in utter disbelief, the sudden movement of his hand almost decapitating the Imp in the process had not the alien taken a step back. “What?! A Fulcrum? That's the most ridiculous thing I heard in a _long_ time!” He breathed out.

Thrawn frowned at the glowing blade, obviously not pleased that the sudden dramatic revelation had almost cost him his neck. “It it really that difficult to believe? Why do you think I let you escape every time? From whom do you think you obtained the code to my office?” A grimace appeared on his blue face. “Do you honestly think of me as _that_ incompetent?”

Ezra barked out a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “Well, yeah,” he gloated, “all the other Imps we met were that dumb.”

From the sense in the Force the Grand Admiral was giving away, he appeared to be genuinely hurt at that remark. “Yes.” Thrawn said in an almost wistful tone. “And that is why I am helping you. There is only so much stupidity I can handle. I have reached my limit.” He let out a sigh and slowly, very carefully he let his arms slide down to his sides.

Ezra's jaw couldn't possibly drop any lower but he pressed a switch and the glowing blade disappeared. He straightened to his full height, still watching the alien anxiously. “What kind of twisted game are you playing?”

Thrawn rewarded him with a disapproving glare at the tone Ezra had been using the whole time. “It is very simple. I gave my word to the Emperor that I would serve the Galactic Empire in exchange for giving me command over a force that could protect my own people from threats in the Unknown Regions and beyond.” His face contorted in pain, disappointment emanating from him in waves. “However, any government that gives people like Konstantine any rank is a bigger threat to my people than even complete rampant chaos your little Rebellion has caused.”

Ezra opened his mouth to add a few snarks but then shook his head and decided it would not be smart to further provoke this unlikely ally. “Threats in the Unknown Regions and beyond? I have no idea what you are talking about.” It didn't make any sense.

Thrawn gave him a triumphant smile. “Of course you don't. For I have eliminated them before they reached the Republic's borders.” His expression turned gravely serious. “But be assured that there are a hundred different threats out there that would freeze your blood if you knew about them.”

Ezra frowned at the proclamation but he couldn't sense any duplicity behind those words. It appeared that the Grand Admiral was telling the truth. Or at least he was convinced he was telling the truth. “So now what? You decided to throw away the white uniform and join us?”

The Grand Admiral crossed his arms. “Hardly. I cannot switch my allegiances so openly. I had been planning my own demise for a some time but in the light of Admiral Konstantine's actions it appears I will have to execute my plans prematurely.”

Huh? Ezra had to suppress the urge to wipe that smug expression from the Imp's face. The Grand Admiral took too much pleasure in watching Ezra's puzzled features. “Something tells me you're not simply going to say 'Frack this shit, I don't want to live in this galaxy anymore' and walk away.”

For a second, a horrified expression crossed the Grand Admiral's face. “The language, young Jedi!” He admonished him harshly, reminding him of a certain teacher in Lothal's elementary school. “No. The attack on your base on Atollon is imminent. I cannot let you all go.”

“What?! You know its location?” Ezra cried out. So their desperate attempt at hiding the base from Thrawn ended up in a failure. The smug bastard had been playing everyone. Including the Emperor. “I don't suppose you can let us know when exactly you're going to attack?”

Thrawn's smirk widened. “No. I have a score to settle. And finding the base deserted would prove detrimental to your cause. Let the High Command think your little Rebellion has been crushed and move your primary base of operation somewhere else. I have no doubt you and your comrades will survive the battle.” The Imp was definitely enjoying this far too much. “As for the location of your base, thank you for making my work so much easier by erasing the very planet from my database. I _do_ have a back-up copy, you know.”

 _That's it!_ Ezra's fists tightened in rage. “You manipulative bastard! You think you're so clever, huh?”

“The language, please!” Thrawn scolded him again. “Take the kalikori and go. I know that is the reason you risked everything and sneaked into my office.”

Ezra growled but knew he couldn't afford to throw away such opening. He retreated further back into Thrawn's office, taking the revered Twi'lek artifact in his arms, watching the Grand Admiral closely for any suspicious movement.

“Please give my regards to Captain Hera Syndulla,” Thrawn's tone was almost dreamy. “Tell her I kept my promise and kept her family heritage safe. I only regret I never had the chance to talk to her as one warrior to another.”

Ezra narrowed his eyes. “You stole it from her! If she saw you she'd have kicked your butt!”

Thrawn only chuckled. “Of that I have no doubt. I studied Twi'lek martial arts and I would have welcomed an opportunity to see a true master in action.” He said with a fondness that was too much for Ezra. His hairs stood up at the back of his neck in disgust. The Imp had a soft spot for Hera, gross!

“There is a gift I want you to give to Captain Syndulla,” Thrawn suddenly turned all business again, “you may think of it as a consolidation prize.” He reached into his chest pocket and took out a rank cylinder. “I had my personal signature removed from this device. It contains more than a dozen authorization codes hard-wired to the ships under my command. It cannot be tracked back to me and each code can be used only once. Think very carefully before you use it. Also,” there was a mischievous spark in his eyes, “There is my evaluation report of a new Imperial weapon that is still under construction. A weapon which is a complete waste of money and resources that could have been used far more effectively elsewhere. It is not much but at the moment it is all I have access to even with a Grand Admiral's security clearance.”

Ezra gave him a disbelieving look but snatched the modified cylinder from his hands. “If this weapon is such a waste of money, why should we be so interested in it?” He asked sarcastically.

Thrawn tilted his head to a side. “Read the report, Padawan Bridger.” He said in a tone that was devoid of any emotion. “You will understand the reason why.”

 

**END OF PART ONE (1/2)**

 

 


	2. These Rebels Will Be a Death of Me One Day

Agent Kallus followed Ezra Bridger through corridors of the Imperial HQ on Lothal and for at least tenth time that day he muttered the curse that Garazeb Orrellios had been so fond of using. He wondered if the Rebel’s true mission objective was to make him finally lose his mind and get him into a mental asylum. Sooner or later, probably much sooner than he expected, he would have to say goodbye to his Imperial life because there was _no way_ the Grand Admiral would have missed Kallus’s involvement this time.

“Where do you think you are going? The whole planet is looking for you!” He snapped at the young Jedi disguised as a Scout Trooper. At least the teenager happened to put on a full body disguise. If he had come in dressed as an officer, Kallus would have had seriously struck him.

“Exactly. And I know of a perfect place to hide.” The teen threw back, his voice muffled by the facial mask.

When Kallus realized what office door Bridger was aiming for, he pressed him toward the wall with more force than necessary. “Have you lost your mind?” Kallus snapped. “What if he is inside?” Sneaking into the Grand Admiral's office – _again_ – was a bad idea of epic proportions. There was no chance Thrawn would fell for that trick twice. He had been probably waiting for them inside with a squad of stormtroopers ready to execute them on the spot.

Bridger freed himself from his grasp and barked out a short laugh. “Ha! Don't worry about that. I’ve got that covered, too.” It was, of course, impossible to see but Kallus was almost certain that the boy was smirking behind his mask. Bridger calmly walked over to the door, pulling out a rank cylinder from his pocket. He inserted it into the side panel and the door opened with a characteristic hissing sound.

Kallus blinked and took out his sidearm from its holster. Just what kind of slicers the Rebels had in their midst to be able to get past all Imperial Security protocols so easily? Their C-1 unit could hack into access ports as if it was its second nature, now they had modified rank cylinders that could open even the Grand Admiral's office?

Kallus sighed in relief that the office appeared to be empty but didn't put his weapon back to his sidearm holster in case they got a surprise visit from the guy who owned this place. His eyes automatically searched for possible escape routes but besides the door their only means of escape was the window. So Bridger's plan was to hide inside Thrawn's office until the search was called off? Well, he had to admit it sounded so incredibly crazy that it might as well have worked.

“You may put the gun down, Agent Kallus,” said a smooth voice so full of authority that Kallus lowered his arm out of instinct. Then, of course, he realized to whom the voice belonged and immediately aimed the weapon straight at Grand Admiral's heart.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. His identity has been compromised. The admiral would have to be silenced.

“Easy, Kallus, he is on our side,” said Bridger and came into the line of fire between him and the alien admiral. Kallus's eyes boggled out in surprise. The Grand Admiral had been playing both sides? That was... to say unthinkable would be an understatement. But more importantly that meant--

“Sir, how long have you known me to be a double agent?” Kallus breathed out, not really sure he wanted to know the answer. His heart rate tripled and there was odd ringing in his ears. All the time he had been thinking his secret identity was safe from everyone. If Thrawn knew then there was a possibility that others could have known as well.

“Long enough,” the alien admiral said with obvious amusement in his voice.

“Since the factory incident?” Kallus remembered Thrawn had asked him about the Mark of the Phoenix. Was it possible Kallus had blown his cover himself? How could have he been so stupid?

“Even before,” Thrawn rewarded him with a smirk. His red eyes focused on Bridger. “Really, young Jedi, how many times do you think you can repeat the same trick until it becomes obvious?” He scolded the teenager.

Kallus couldn’t do anything but nod in agreement at that rebuke. He had no idea whether to laugh or cry that the Grand Admiral apparently shared his opinion how a colossally bad idea it was to hide inside his office. The world around him started spinning. Nothing was making any sense now. Who was a friend and who was a foe? Just how big and how organized the Rebellion was to have sympathizers even in the highest places?

“Agent Kallus, are you all right?” The Grand Admiral asked in his usual impassive tone. As if there was nothing unusual about hiding an enemy of the state, as if he had not just admitted to a high treason. There was absolutely nothing in that alien blue features that gave a hint of Thrawn's thoughts on the matter.

“If you allow me, Admiral,” Kallus tried to at least _sound_ like it was nothing more than a mundane breefing, “I might need to sit down.”

There was a sudden spark in Thrawn's eyes that Kallus had never been able to fully interpret and then the alien nodded. “Of course. At ease, Agent.”

Kallus walked over to the table and sagged down to a chair in Thrawn's office. He realized he must have made himself a complete and utter fool in front of his superior, but then how often does one's world completely falls apart? Kallus joined the Empire because he believed in order; the Rebellion would soon give him a stomach ulcer with all the rampant chaos they were causing. Nothing that bacta couldn't heal but still...

“I don't suppose you have any more of these? I've run out of all the codes,” Bridger asked Thrawn in such arrogant tone it made Kallus wince internally. Such audacity, to speak to a Grand Admiral like that! The teenager had no manners!

Thrawn rewarded the Rebel with a glare reserved for insubordinate crewmen. “No, Bridger. I told you to think very carefully before you use them. You cannot rely on my help every time you happen to come into my vicinity.” The alien admiral said in a tone cold as ice, cold enough to give Kallus goosebumps, “and I would very much appreciate if you stopped this habit of yours of breaking into my offices.”

Bridger snorted, removing his helmet. “What? I thought you'd be happy that I decided to stop by and say hi.” He gave the Grand Admiral a wide toothed grin.

Thrawn sighed and focused his glowing gaze on Kallus. “How can you stand him, Agent?” He asked solemnly.

Kallus straightened in the chair. He had no idea that he and Thrawn could ever get along. He had always considered the blue alien unapproachable, cold, and ruthless. Except for strategic briefings, he never had the opportunity to really _talk_ to him, to see if there was anything more beneath that cold blooded persona. However, Kallus realized that there must have been at least something given the alien's obsession with art.

“Well, I noticed few gray hair popping up since my first involvement with the Rebels,” the whole situation was so absurd that Kallus blurted it out loud even in front of the Grand Admiral. It might have gotten him a sharp rebuke but that was the least of his concerns this day.

The alien admiral kept staring at him, his face completely unreadable, only that spark appearing in his eyes again. Was it possible that this was his species’ equivalent of a laugh? Kallus has always tried hard to avoid the glowing red eyes, they looked so cold, so… unnerving. Threatening, even.

There was so much he wanted to ask the Grand Admiral. So much he needed to know. It was somehow comforting to know that Kallus was not the only one in the Empire who dared to question Imperial policies. Even if the other had been such a cold fish like Thrawn.

The Grand Admiral paid little attention to them, taking out his comm link and pressing a button. “Vice Admiral, is my cargo shipment ready?”

“Yes, sir!” An amicable voice answered. Kallus assumed the other man could have been in his late fifties. “We are about to lift off.”

“Excellent.” The Grand Admiral suddenly seemed pleased. What kind of cargo it could have been that a vice admiral had to come over to deliver it personally? Something highly illegal? What kind of shady business was Thrawn into? Assuming they left this office alive, Kallus would have to run a thorough background check.

“Please add a Death Trooper armor to the box,” Thrawn gave Bridger a long measuring look, “for somebody about 5’5 feet tall.”

“Of course, sir,” came in a crisp reply. Kallus raised an eyebrow at the acknowledgment; if the other man was to be surprised at such unusual request his voice certainly gave no indication.

Thrawn turned off his comlink without saying goodbye and focused his full attention back to Bridger. “Vice Admiral Parck will take you to the ISD _Admonitor_ and drop you off at a place of your own choosing. You will have to change your attire, Padawan Bridger, I am afraid your Scout Trooper disguise is too obvious to get past the security.” Thrawn gave Kallus a mischievous look. “Though no one would suspect a Death Trooper accompanying a Vice Admiral.”

Kallus had to admit that all Grand Admiral's plans were flawless. No one would certainly suspect a Death Trooper. Their numbers were scarce and their uniforms were hard to get. As far as he was aware, no Rebel have ever got their hands on Death Trooper armor.

“This Vice Admiral...” Kallus left the question hanging in the air. _An unacceptable_ _security risk_.

Thrawn’s red eyes were blazing with fury. “Is none of your concern, Agent.” His voice was cold and very, very deadly. “Is that clear?”

Kallus swallowed hard. “Crystal, sir.” He would have to place his life in the hands of an unknown man. It would be so easy for Parck to betray them once he took Bridger aboard the Star Destroyer. A certain promotion to the rank of full admiral awaiting him.

And so they waited in an awkward silence until the man in question arrived with a large cargo box on a repulsor lift. He was of a medium built, with fair skin, brown eyes, brown hair, and there were wrinkles around his eyes from too much stress, something that Kallus thought would soon develop himself.

Parck stood up his full attention and gave the Grand Admiral a text book salute, waiting until the alien waved his hand to let him at ease. To Kallus it seemed unnecessary formal. They were both admirals, there was no need for such formalities.

Parck then gave the other occupants of the room a curious glance but without a word or acknowledgment he proceeded to open the lid. “I guess this is for you, young man.” He offered a black helmet to Bridger.

The teenager quickly ran toward the man, taking the helmet from his hands, removing the lid himself, staring at the content of the box in anticipation. “A Death Trooper armor, cool!” he breathed out.

A horrified expression appeared on Parck's face, who had been trying to shield the box with his body. “Careful, young man!” He cried out. “The Grand Admiral would have skinned you alive if anything happened to his precious porcelain!”

Kallus jumped to his feet in shock. _Porcelain?_ Not illegal contraband? Thrawn called off a Star Destroyer from its assignment because of a porcelain shipment? And he made a _Vice Admiral_ deliver it personally to his office? A mundane task usually reserved for petty officers?

From the corner of his eye he could see Thrawn standing unnaturally still, his eyes blazing like with infernal flames. Kallus made a mental note to never, _ever_ stand close to Thrawn's objects of art. If any of his precious artwork fell down and broke...

Meanwhile Bridger started stripping down, throwing away his Scout Armor plates carelessly on the floor. The teenager really had no manners... Kallus watched him quickly put on the black armor, muttering various teenage slang words that no one in the room was familiar with.

And then Bridger put on his helmet and found out about the garbled speech, causing Kallus to wince visibly. “Please, stop that!” he howled out.

“Agent Kallus,” Thrawn’s patience was obviously running out, “Next time you encounter his Master, would you please remind him that his disciple needs to be taught basic manners.” The alien said acerbically. “Otherwise I will have to fill the gaps in his education myself.”

Bridger blurted out something intelligible in his garbled voice, making Kallus to roll his eyes. The boy definitely needed a corporal punishment. The Vice Admiral put an arm on the boy’s shoulder and shook his head, his lips twitching in a genuine smile.

“Young man, that is enough,” Parck said in a fatherly tone, “trying the Grand Admiral’s patience is generally not a very good idea.” Once more, he straightened to full attention and gave the alien admiral his best salute.

“Dismissed.” Thrawn certainly didn’t have to repeat himself. “We will talk later, Agent Kallus.”

Kallus has never been happier to to get out of the Grand Admiral’s office. They all walked in silence until they reached the elevator, Kallus's eyes scanning corridors for any threats. Only when the door of the elevator closed he allowed himself a sigh in relief.

Still, Kallus felt very uneasy about this man. Too many lives depended whether the Vice Admiral would keep his mouth shut or not. It was in their best interest to have him silenced.

It couldn’t hurt to poke a little. “So, do you often run errands like this for the Grand Admiral?” He tried to engage him in a small talk.

The other man gave him an honest smile. “Oh, you have no idea,” he said warmly. He glanced at the teenager disguised as a Death Trooper and then back at Kallus.

Kallus narrowed his eyes, wondering how much the man knew and how much he figured out. “You must be curious, at least.” He offered.

“You know the saying, Agent,” the Vice Admiral threw back, “curiosity killed the lothcat.” Then the expression softened. “You have nothing to fear from me, Agent.” Parck said, taking in his unnaturally stiff posture, his hand on his sidearm. “I will deliver this boy to his destination. I admit I have no idea what kind of game the Grand Admiral might be playing but he has earned my unquestioning loyalty. Any true warrior would give up whatever necessary for the chance to serve under him.”

Kallus startled in shock. So this man was more loyal to Thrawn than to the Emperor? That was a _very_ dangerous precedent, far more dangerous than helping a known Rebel. Kallus took a good look a the crest on the man’s right arm that so many of Thrawn’s men used to carry with pride. This one was different from the ones he seen on _Chimaera_. This one distinctly looked like a human hand.

“Perhaps I could accompany you to the _Admonitor_ ,” Kallus hinted. It could have been very educational to see more of Thrawn’s crew, and he could even find an excuse to question few officers. He was a ISB Agent, after all. He could temporary operate on any ship of his choosing. He would always find an excuse.

“I am afraid it would not be possible, Agent,” the Vice Admiral turned him down politely. Considering how cold and aloof Thrawn appeared to be, it was strange that he chose such warm and welcoming individual as one of his confidantes. “As soon as we drop the boy off, we are headed back to the Unknown Regions and will not be back for several months at least.”

Kallus raised his eyebrows. “You are not a part of the Grand Admiral’s Fleet?”

“Technically, we're detached from the fleet command structure. We have our own set of orders that we need to comply with.”

Kallus didn’t think anything else could have surprised him today; he was wrong. Just who was this mysterious man who saluted to Thrawn like an ensign and worshiped the very ground the alien stepped on? He would be definitely running a _deep_ background check on Thrawn, Parck, and other high ranking individuals including his flagship captain.

His thoughts were interrupted, though, as the door opened and the Vice Admiral nodded in goodbye, leaving with his Death Trooper escort without a word.

 

**THE END(?)**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are not familiar with Parck. He’s the guy who found Thrawn on the nameless world he had been exiled to, and had him brought to the Emperor. He became his second-in-command and stayed in the Unknown Regions when Thrawn left for the Galaxy. Thrawn told him to pay no attention to news about his death and patiently wait for his return in ten years… And so he waited. And waited. And never doubted Thrawn’s words. He’s kind of… fanatically devoted to Thrawn. A true believer. *cough*
> 
>  
> 
> [Voss Parck Wookiepedia Article](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Voss_Parck/Legends)
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my little conspiracy theory which is becoming an AU in next two weeks. I doubt the confrontation of Kallus and Thrawn would turn out like in this fic. Only one of them will probably be around to tell the tale…
> 
> I don’t plan to continue this verse, I never even planned the chapter two… It just happened. So in case something happens again, I am putting that (?) mark. However, I consider this story complete. It was so much fun to write... (Especially Ezra driving Imperials nuts.)


End file.
